


Lucifer's Legacy- Letters and Dreams

by C0rrUpt3dSp1r1t



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Boarding School, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Hell, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Other, School, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2020-07-09 00:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19878946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C0rrUpt3dSp1r1t/pseuds/C0rrUpt3dSp1r1t
Summary: A little less than a week after the world didn't end, Adam receives a letter inviting him to a certain school of magic. After a dream he replies, and the next morning miraculously the rest of 'The Them' get invited too, and they gain magical powers as well. Crowley and Aziraphale come in to check on Adam, and it turns out they make quite good teachers there. Anathema gets a job offering to Hogwarts as a divination teacher, and with the proper tools she actually becomes the second best seer of all time. And after all that, someone has a job for the angel and demon.*While the events and time frame are based on the show, some minor character descriptions may be changed to my interpretation of them in the book. I'll still reference the show looks and personalities, but some characters will have both a show and an original form based more on the book.***Hiatus is lifted! Hogwarts is going through a couple of my own changes to distance itself from the real series and the author, but I still enjoy writing this and I want it to continue one way or another.**





	1. You've Got Mail!

It had been almost a week since the world didn't end. It had become mostly normal again, and everything that broke in the past week or so suddenly fixed itself. Some people even came back to life, forgetting they died in the first place. The rest of the world had everything fade from their minds and once again it was business as usual. But there was still magic lingering in the little town of Tadfield.

Adam Young had been playing with the other members of 'The Them.' Since they found out Anathema was indeed a witch, but still one of the nicest adults they met, and he was secretly the antichrist, the opinion of magic was subtlety nudged the other direction, and logically, he planned for witches and wizards fighting to be their next game. Its rules were much looser than many of the others, allowing just about anything from an 11-year-old's mind to come true.

Pretty much anything could happen, and indeed, anything would.

On the branch of one of the larger trees, a massive owl landed silently above them. A heavy stamped envelope made of parchment drifted down to Adam's feet. Like any curious young boy, he picked it up and inspected it. He looked into the sky to see where it could have come from, but the owl was gone and he saw nothing.

On it was his name, address, and the group's hideout. While anyone sensible would call the police, Adam was liked by his group partially because that was a trait he generally lacked. Instead, he called the others over. They looked at the letter too, and with interest watched as he gently broke the red wax seal and opened it.

"What does it say? It looks interesting enough, but what's it 'bout?" Brian asked.

Adam slid out and unfolded a piece of parchment. The letter was delicately written in cursive and a dip pen.

_Dear Adam Young,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We have detected you to be magically inclined, and will be introduced to the wizarding world through a series of letters, should you choose to accept. Replying to this letter by owl will be simple. Just leave it outside your bedroom window, and it will be checked for. Reply within 3 days to remain eligible._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts_

Pepper had an exasperated expression, "This some sort of joke?"

Wensleydale chimed in, "Yes, this doesn't look real. I know Miss Anathema is a witch, but she still doesn't do real magic. We have science."

Adam knitted his eyebrows, "I don't think it's fake. A few days ago something happened. And you didn't like it. But you don't remember. I thought I lost them- we'll talk about it later. It'll confuse you as much as it confuses me. My parents have to know. Sorry, but I think I might have to go home."

Before another word, Adam grabbed ahold of Dog's leash and started running back out of the woods.

Adam's father didn't seem so happy to see the letter.,"Wizards? Magic? This is ridiculous. How do they know you?"

Adam promptly got grounded and dinner was served cold in his room later. He ate it, glad there was no dessert.* He lay in bed, staring at the note on his dresser, then up at his papercraft ships hung from the ceiling, then back again. Soon enough he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_He was there. In the arched entryway. His friends were by his side. Two teachers he recognised from meeting already. McGonagall brought them into the dining hall. Silence was ordered, but whispers still broke about the sorting. Adam was curious about what he'd see._

_Upon a stool a hat was placed, and it began to sing. The song was quite bad- absolutely terrible actually- and just long enough to be annoying. But...it got the point across._

_Of the members, Pepper went up first. The hat barely touched her head before she was declared Gryffondor._

_Brian was after her. There was a short pause, but it only took about a minute before the hat belted out, "Hufflepuff!"_

_Out of 'The Them' Wensleydale was third. He was the smartest out of them, but the hat hesitated for a while before finally agreeing with him on Ravenclaw._

_Adam was last. It was his chance. He walked up to the stool and sat. The raggedy hat was placed upon his head, and he felt it speak to him._

_**You're different, kid. That's for sure. You destroyed the world- and saved it. In a day. Even Mister Potter can't say that. Then again, he's not the antichrist. And he also didn't wish his friends into school. You granted them a powerful gift-magic, but deep underneath, your magic is in infinite supply. Its like you gave them a sip of a massive lake.** _

_**You'll get on fine no matter where I put you, and hey- you just reached your rebellious phase.** _

_**Slytherin.** _

_**Why'd I put you there? Balance, Young. And it'll give the purebloods quite a scare. Even after the whole debacle some of them are still borderlining on fascism. They could use someone like you to keep them just a little bit in line. Even though your friends are all in different houses, I know you'll miraculously create errors in the scheduling and share classes. I couldn't stop you even if I cared enough to try.** _

_**It seems you know enough, Young. Awaken, and should you choose, you know what will happen. I bid you farewell, human incarnate.** _

* * *

Adam awoke with a start. He was sweating a bit, but not because of fear, but anticipation. He looked back down at the parchment.

He leaned out of bed and picked it off his bedside table. He reread it, making sure to take in every detail. He gave it a sniff. It smelled of old paper, ink, and just a hint of nice perfume. It must have belonged to the lady who wrote him- Minerva McGonagall.

Even if his parents didn't want him to go, he wrote his reply on his own paper with a cheap ballpoint on his desk. It was short and sweet.

_Dear Mrs. McGonagall,_

_I'd like to go to Hogwarts and learn magic. Tell me more please. I'm sure we can get on._

_-Adam Young_

He taped it shut (there were no envelopes in his room) and left it with his name in large print on the outside. He opened his window, and as instructed, left it on his windowsill.

It was still just past midnight, so he went back to sleep, this time he had no more dreams.


	2. Sent it to Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other 'Them' members get their letters, and Adam explains what happened a week before. It takes some convincing (or Adam's influence) to get the parents on board, but when they agree a new adventure awaits.

Adam woke up late and got ready for his morning. He looked out the window and the letter was gone. He left his room and went into the kitchen, where he had a small breakfast and took Dog's leash, attaching it to the small canine and taking him outside. He got on his bike and Dog ran alongside him deep into the woods towards their hideout.

The rest of his gang were already there, talking about something.

"Maybe it is real. It's a bit strange that we all got one- Adam! Come on- we've got to talk to you!" Pepper shouted. She ushered him over to the rest of the group.

"What's going on?" Adam shouted.

"We all got letters too! Isn't it great?" Brian answered, showing his parchment letter to Adam.

"I'm still not sure about it," Wensleydale responded. He shook his letter a bit, as if he was checking something about it.

Pepper spoke up once more, "I was going to ask about what happened a few days ago, but you ran off. Now I need to know."

"Well, it's very hard to explain. Please don't interrupt, I'll lose my place. Basically I'm- I mean I was the son of Satan. I was about to start the end of the world, but you guys helped stop me and keep the world from ending. Everything was going bad. The devil even came up from the ground. A couple other angels and demons were there. Oh- and there were the four horsemen of the apocalypse. You were all there as I wished him to not be my dad, and he's not really anymore, but I guess I kinda kept some of my powers. It was all normal the next day like nothing happened and you'd forgotten, so I wasn't planning on telling anyone 'bout it."

Pepper looked back at her envelope, "Then why'd we get these? You're the one with powers." She nonchalantly ignored that Adam, in fact, admitted to have nearly ended the world.

"I had this dream last night. And there was this hat that talked to me. I think I saw the future- and you all got the letters because I wished you to have magic so you'd be invited. It said something about giving you a sip of a big lake- I can't remember it all clear. The school was somewhere far away, so I suppose it was so we'd stay together? I still don't understand it all."

Wensleydale had quite an expression, "A hat talked to you?"

"Well, he said it was magic. Maybe there's a magic talking hat?" Brian answered matter-of-factly.

"Yeah." Adam answered simply. "Wanna come? I know my dad doesn't want me to go, but I know I can convince him."

There was a bit of talking back and forth, but they agreed that if they were to stay together and continue their adventures, then to Hogwarts they would go. The matter now was parents. They all agreed to ask, and if they said no, then Adam would do something about it. He was still good at convincing people. When it was him talking they always came around. It was one of the reasons he was such a great leader.

They collected up their things and all split, leaving the woods empty once more.

Pepper was at her house talking to her mum, shaking the letter and placing it on the table. She was very headstrong, and this would be the perfect place for her to show her spirit.

"Mum, I have to go! It'll be awesome! And my other friends are going, they all got accepted too! Just look at this!"

After a long quiet talk, her mother, tired, agreed to Pepper's request, "Yes, fine. You have to write back, it said so in the letter. Do it now before I change my mind."

She ran off to her room excitedly, grabbing a pencil, paper, and envelope on the way there. Her mum just needed rest from a long work week.

She checked for spelling errors a few times, and this was the final result. Simple, but well worded.

* * *

_Dear Ms. McGonagall,_

_I'd love to go and mum said I could come. Some friends are coming too and I'm super excited. I know I'll be strong enough to make it there and it sounds fun._

_Pepper_

* * *

She gave it one last look and sealed the envelope. As instructed she left it outside her window, though a bit more carefully than Adam, left it in a bush.

"Father, this is for my friends. I know what you want me to be, but it would be interesting to try something different," Wensleydale said.

"Youngster, if you think this is a good opportunity for you, then I'm perfectly happy with you going. I did want to put you in a private school anyway, and this seems perfect. Let me write the letter for you."

"Thank you dad. I'll be sure to take all my normal tests. If I can't stay I still need to ensure my future."

"Good lad, you always remember what I tell you. You're perfectly welcome Youngster."

He started typing on his computer. The letter was long and detailed with proper indents and spacing, and when he printed it out it was almost half a page.

* * *

_Dear Headmistress McGonagall,_

_Youngster Jeremy is interested, and this seems to be a good investment into his future. I would like to know more about this 'world.' How does magic work? Where is the school? I'm sure to receive this information in due time, but since the school year begins soon, time is of the essence. He will of course be taking his normal classes when he returns home, so regardless of where he goes he is successful. I'd be happy to retain correspondence over the remainder of the month and gain information on his newfound magical powers. We will leave this outside for retrieval as per instruction._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Johnathon Wensleydale_

* * *

Wensleydale pulled the fresh, warm paper from the printer and gently folded it into an envelope, meticulously sealing it and even putting on a stamp, even though it wasn't actually necessary. He placed it on a windowsill and left the house, biking back to the woods.

Brian quite frankly wasn't worth talking about. His parents cared about him, but when it came to these things he got a little spoiled. Not really in a bad way, but it usually took very little coaxing to get anything his parents deemed reasonable. His letter was significantly shorter and even less formal than Pepper's.

* * *

_Dad said yes._

* * *

Adam was much calmer this time. He pulled out everything he had and used it. Teary eyes, doing nice things, everything.

"Dad, all my friends are going."

"I said no, none of these fairy stories."

"But what if it isn't?"

"I won't have it! You are going to a normal school with normal people."

"But- but…" Adam whined just a little.

He wasn't sure if it was his power that did it or his father's weakness towards him, but after a little more talking, his father's viewpoint tipped off the edge and he was finally given the green light for magic school. He didn't tell his father that he'd already begun correspondence, so he wrote a second letter and pretended to leave it outside, taking it back and throwing it away only minutes later.


	3. Speak of the Antichrist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley comes over to have a drink and some quiet time with Aziraphale, but after a bit of chanting Aziraphale mentions that heaven could be monitoring Adam and to quote a drunk Crowley, "Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh for ssssomebody’s ssssake- we’re the antichrist’s godparentssss." Ineffable husbands fluff, but their moment gets cut short.

The bookshop wasn't crowded per-se, but it was cozy and warm. The books weren't just wall-to-wall, but they covered the tables and cluttered the floor too. Unless you were accustomed to such scents, anywhere near the entrance smelled simply pungent, but that was all a ploy. The back room smelled of cocoa and a couple places in the shop weren't submerged in ancient literature, and it was a couple chairs[1]* as well as a very small spot on a desk in the back where a cup of hot cocoa often sat. Angels just don't like selling their books.

Outside was standing a slender figure. They walked up to the door, briefly glanced inside, then knocked gently on the window pane, just barely loud enough for Aziraphale's attention to be drawn without scaring him.

"Closed!" he shouted from the back room. He did, however, take a quick look outside anyway.

He ran out and opened the door, making extra sure to keep the sign from flipping to 'Open.'

"Oh- dear. Sorry, Crowley. It's become quite a habit at this stage. So what brings you here today?"

Crowley sauntered in and rested his weight on one of the worn tables. He removed his sunglasses and placed them down.

"Oh, angel, do I need a reason for everything? Just wanted to see you," however he revealed something from behind his back. "I did, however, get another bottle of your favorite champagne. Thought we could share some?"

Aziraphale smiled softly, "Yes, I think I'd like that very much."

Crowley laid the bottle down on a side table with his glasses. He strolled into the little kitchenette and took out two wine glasses. He looked at them curiously.

"Whatever happened to your set of Medieval goblets? They were wonderful things," he asked.

Aziraphale was sitting on the couch. He accepted the glass Crowley handed him and inserted a corkscrew into the bottle. He didn't miracle this part done, it was too satisfying to pull up the cork and hear the popping sound. He filled both glasses and stared off for a bit.

"Oh, I do believe that they were pillaged during an invasion. Can't remember. Or were they destroyed in the blitz? Yes, I think it was the blitz for that set. I miss them too."

* * *

Crowley rested on a couch opposite to Aziraphale, staring him right in the eyes. He felt safe with his angel, and was just gulping his champagne down, already a bit tipsy. [2]*

* * *

"Have theyy checked of youu yet?"

"No, but I heard faintly they were going to keep checking in on the...antichrist- oh dear," Aziraphale snapped back upon a realization.

"You forgot to mention that?!" Crowley's drink sloshed out as his body quaked. He immediately stopped drinking.

Aziraphale's face was riddled with panic. "There's no telling what they'll do to Adam! He's just a normal boy now- we don't know what'll happen!"

Crowley's stress, combined with the alcohol, led to him hissing a bit more than usual, "Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh for ssssomebody's ssssake- we're the antichrist's godparentssss."

"Ooh…. You're very much right. We've held that responsibility for young Warlock- but he's not the one that could be in danger. Adam is under our protection and we forgot about it!"

"Okay, DON'T panic. We can still fix this, Angel. Just- find out where he is again? Make sure he's okay."

Aziraphale was still on edge, but not bordering on screaming anymore. "I think we might need to be looking out for him a bit longer than that. I have a sinking feeling we'll need to be near him on the regular, darling."

"What about that descendant of- who was it- oh, Agnes Nutter. She was there so she must live near Tadfield. We could ask her. Wait, did you just call me 'Darling'?" Crowley smiled just a bit.

Aziraphale ignored the question, "Yes, we should go back to Tadfield and visit Miss Anathema."

Crowley was a bit frustrated, since it was the first time in two days that they'd seen each other, and it had immediately came back to that. He didn't even get to properly put his feet up in the bookshop again. Aziraphale didn't look thrilled about it either, and while it was optimal to be sober, he still topped off his glass.

After a bottle's worth of drinking, Aziraphale had switched spots and was on the sofa with Crowley. While still a bit cautious about the whole situation, he rest with Crowley's arm around him. It was nice, for the roughly half hour that they lay there for. Calming. He really didn't understand why the other Angel's thought Crowley smelled evil. In truth he wouldn't directly hurt anyone without a very good reason. That statement had really stuck with him, and he didn't like it one bit.

After that half hour, they finally sobered up and a silent agreement fell between the two of them.

_We should go._

So Crowley grabbed his glasses, and they popped out of the bookshop. He, quite intentionally, opened it on the driver's side. Aziraphale would have to go past him, and he grabbed his angel's hand to help him in. It didn't seem to go noticed, but he was happy with it for now.

* * *

To help them relax, Crowley was kind enough to lower the music volume and stay around the speed limit.[3]*

[1]* The furniture fit for sitting on still did have some stragglers on them.

[2]* Demons, for good reason, don't drink with each other.

[3]* At least not more than 15 above anyway


	4. Your Name was Foretold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale meet a confused and slightly angry Anathema, and after some stressed explaining they meet the kids. Newt pops in for a bit, but he probably need a few more cups of coffee to properly show up. At the end there's finally some mild flirting. :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lateness. I was on a family roadtrip first, and then I've had to do registration for a new school. It's over now, and the hours on it will be flexible, so it won't end up in a dustbin of discontinued fics, even if updates are infrequent. I'm already working on the next chapter though, and its different. Prepare for a surprise!

They had just reached Tadfield and they had been silent most of the ride, letting the cogs in their heads turn. [1]* He'd finally gotten a coherent question into his head. While he didn't show it, he definitely noticed that Crowley was acting a bit... nice today. Specifically to him. Aziraphale piped up.

"Don't we have the same chance of finding the kids as finding Anathema?"

"Yes, but we can talk with her. Living with the kid isn't an option this time. Tadfield isn't poor, but they don't do nannies around here. We might be able to stay at her place."

"Stop here Crowley."

"Why here?"

"I remember these street names from somewhere. I find it likely to have been referred to in the recent prophecies."

"Well, can't think of any real risk to this. Might as well."

A few doors down a very startled looking woman burst out. She saw them from the corner of her eye, glared, and strode to them.

"You two. In. Now."

She pointed to her cottage and grabbed them both by the arms like a pair of unruly toddlers, dragging them melodramatically inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?! The book, the end of the world- I remember you, but what happened, and why is this thing here?"

It took a few seconds of awkward silence and stuttering to properly get the words out. Aziraphale spoke nervously, "W-well, it seems my… boss- is trying to spy on Adam Young. Do you remember that he is- or was, the antichrist? I'm an Angel, he's a demon, I hope that clears something up." [2]*

Crowley piped up, "What is what here?"

Anathema picked up the piece of parchment, pointing at the seal on the envelope.

Aziraphale's expression didn't look particularly happy about it, "Hogwarts school- oh. Has Adam talked to you before? I think he might be the answer, and it might not be a good thing."

She looked at him through her glasses, "Of course he's talked to me. I love kids. He visited only a couple days ago, I was actually going to go see them before you showed up. And yes, I gathered he might have something to do with it."

Crowley looked a bit more relaxed, it was clear from how he was failing to sit in the chair, but he still answered "Ugh, it's not that simple. These wishes might be a direct line to Satan himself. Selfish or not, this could be a problem."

Newt stumbled through the door into the kitchen, barely awake, "What the fuss 'bout?" he yawned.

Anathema looked done with it. "Good afternoon, Newt. I thought you weren't going to get up today."

He sort of stumbled to the coffee machine and flailed just barely accurately enough to get a mug. Pouring it was another beast however, and he spilled a bit as a result. At least it wasn't hot, so it didn't burn him. Since the table was busy he just sort of sipped cold coffee over the sink.

"Okay, so we might need to go to Hogwarts. Adam won't be safe if heaven or hell start tracking him. Dear, could I read that letter in more detail?"

She passed it to him.

"Divination teacher? Well, your-"

"I know. Agnes Nutter. I don't want to just be a descendant anymore. But if I can learn to do it myself, I won't be living in her shadow. That's why I'm considering going, even if it's just a gift from a child."

"Well then, could you, well, take us to the kid?" Crowley finally said.

She picked up her bag and the letter, standing up and going to the door, "Come on, he'll be down in the woods with his friends. It's in walking distance, so no need for that car."

Crowley didn't like her tone, but didn't mention it.

Newt looked on in a dazed manner. "Bye honey."

"Come on Aziraphale," Crowley grabbed his hand and they began walking.

They calmly strolled down through the street, onto a sidewalk path towards a river. They crossed a bridge and went through a field, walking until they reached a dirt path and the opening of the woods. You could already see and hear signs of the kids there, but they were much farther down.

Eventually they reached their destination, and the Them ran to Anathema. They showed their letter to her.

"I see you all have one too. I'd have guessed."

"We're gonna be wizards, just like you." Brian said.

"Witch."

"You got one?" Adam asked.

"Yes in fact I did. I'm going to be a divination teacher. It appears I'll be going with."

Wensleydale asked, "What's that."

"It's about seeing the future."

Adam looked at Crowley and Aziraphale, "I didn't think you'd show up again, I thought it was all done."

Crowley faked a smile horribly, "Ummm, welll- heaven and hell might be trying to spy on you so the apocalypse can start again. We're on our own side, y'know? So we thought we could maybe make sure things don't go pear-shaped."

"We might just have to miracle ourselves into places at Hogwarts. It appears that your friends and Anathema here might already have gotten that done, Adam," Aziraphale answered.

"Wait, how'd you know my name?" she interrogated.

"The prophecies dear."

"Right. So how's this all going to go down?"

"Rather messily I'm afraid, at least at the start. Dear, now we know, I think it best we go back to the bookshop to get some things done."

"Angel, miracles while I'm drunk?" Crowley smugly asked.

"Who said anything about alcohol?" the angel asked.

"Me. Because I bought you that bottle and was planning on a lot more enjoyment than we got out of that thing. Stress is no fun."

While Anathema stayed behind looking things over, the angel and demon walked merrily out of the woods on their way home, feeling a bit better knowing how things would go and actually having a plan this time.

* * *

[1]* The gears in Aziraphale's head are quite rusty and unfortunately not well oiled either.


	5. Devil's Advocate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan himself has a bit of a think. Pining and sympathetic lord of hell.

It was the dank basement of Hell. Well, technically all of Hell was a dank basement, just varying degrees of mold or general unpleasantness. But this was the throne room. Not really the deepest pit, but definitely the center. Despite it's mustiness it wasn't actually very unpleasant. Royal purple banners adorned the room, making the grey stone walls seem slightly more appealing. Inexplicably, the strongest light source, rather than the rows of torches, was that at the end of the room behind the throne were three stained glass windows- two in the typical shape, square at the bottom curving into points at the top, the other was above them and circular. One depicted an angel, one a demon. The topmost one had him, raven wings spread, breaking apart the sunlight with his silhouette.

Lucifer was leant over a picture frame he held sullenly.

_I miss you. I wish I had you back my darling. Sometimes I wish I didn't leave, if only for you._

The picture was of Michael. Well, Michael's original body. They'd been discorporated once. Back then Michael was a beautiful blonde [1]* with hair down to the waist.

Pure and gentle. But afraid, and therefore obedient. They didn't leave each other as such, it was more like they were going to stay together, but torn apart last minute. Michael almost fell for him. Lucifer did fall, and Michael was most of the reason.

The other reasons were freedom, yet at the same time selfishness stood in his way.

Back then Lucifer was of unrivaled stature to the other angels. He was the first, the light-bringer. It took more of God's power than you'd think to make an angel, especially one as great as him. So he helped create the Heavens. It was she who made the pit of sulfuric despair that was Hell.

But he was cocky. Being popular didn't help. In power he was second only to his maker, and it showed when she made the earth itself. At first it was lovely, but when humans came into the picture, and how these mortals would be their masters- it offended him.

He asked for a kingdom of his own, where the angels speaking out could live freely, away from the apes. He fought for it, but eventually, technically, he got his wish. And it was the biggest regret of his life.

He wasn't sure if he wanted revenge or not, to be honest. The antichrist was like a test of sorts. Whether humans were worth it, and if he should fight the war again. And Adam certainly thought that things were good enough as it was. Not great by any means, but there was hope and willingness to make the planet Earth a better place, something even his horrific form known only as the great beast couldn't make him stand down. If that didn't convince Adam, then he'd grant all of humanity mercy. So as he got sent back to hell, he did.

There was a sound of footsteps and paper rustling, and then he saw a messenger entering his room.

Lucifer placed down the picture frame onto a desk and stood up, pacing a bit. He was in his natural form, a tall (but not unnaturally so) pale man. He ruffled fluffy black hair around his ram horns. His three pairs of black wings were in full display. His purple eyes bore into the minor demon for the interruption.

A demon huffed as he entered the room, "My lord? We failed to execute Crowley."

"I know you failed. I test like she does you know. I look for the opposite effect, however. I'm glad." [2]*

"Why?

"Because he still has a chance."

"At what?"

"At love. The whole reason I'm the lord of hell is because of sympathy dear. If I couldn't see your pain I'd probably still be an archangel. Kind, but still detached. Just obedient. Nothing more, nothing less. If I didn't see their love I wouldn't forgive myself."

"Bu-but. Demons and angels?" the messenger wasn't sure whether to disagree or nod in encouragement.

"I had a chance once. And I lost it. Because of it became what I am now. Ha. I'm just glad-"

"About what, sir?"

That Michael made it out of Hell okay.

"Not your business I'm afraid. Dismissed."

To get his point across, the fallen archangel summoned from the darkness his silver trident and pointed it at the underling, a grimace passing over his face.

The minor demon uncomfortably left the room. While Lucifer was kind [1]*, he was also temperamental, vengeful. Despite his dislike of the title, he was called Satan for a reason.

He looked down at the desk. Sitting on it was a variety of objects from different eras of human history. Some tribute from Crowley, some he popped over and picked up himself. Mainly there were different kinds of pens and writing instruments. There was the most up-to-date computer in Hell [3]* and it was connected to hell's only router, which was why elsewhere if there even was wifi any signal was awful.

He sent a quick email to corporate farther downstairs before turning to the other devices on his desk.

Then there were mediums for recording and listening to music- from a record table, to cassette tapes and CDs, to an MP3 player. He liked the cassettes best, but some of his favorites were after their time.

He put on the first 'They Might Be Giants' album and skipped tracks until it reached 'She's an Angel' [4]* His eyes welled up a bit as he sat on his throne and stared at the picture.

`Why did they send her, over anyone else? How should I react? These things happen to other people...' sang the radio.

He smiled a bit. This was his favorite song, if only how it made him feel. The story of his life, it felt like.

_Look at you. My angel. See how we've changed so much. But I still love you. I wish my subjects were better so you might one day be willing to come here and stay with me._

The song ended and he turned off the CD player, letting the room fall into silence. It was minutes before it broke again.

* * *

[1]* For human terms, back then Michael looked like a slender young male, not coincidentally reminiscent of something Michelangelo would make.

[2]* He was also happy because deep down he knew Beelzebub was caring, and Michael was definitely ordered down there by the dick that was Gabriel. Once Michael was in Hell they were definitely in danger of the worse demons. If Crowley was injured in the process he'd definitely have to (literally) swoop in.

[3]* Lucifer's computer was a Windows 8. Vista was one of Crowley's most evil masterpieces, but nobody actually wanted to be involved in it. And Crowley hated most of his coworkers, so generally Hell was forced to use it.

[4]* Here's a link to the song: watch?v=zZ4J-jvDAuQ


	6. The Demon on Your Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley have a nice evening. Quick chapter, I'm releasing 2 more shortly after this. But they finally get to have a nice time. :D

They stood in the main room of the bookshop. Aziraphale had just come out of the back room, a bright light fading as he left. Crowley was keen to talk about it.

"So you just gave her my phone number?" Crowley asked.

"...Yes…" Aziraphale stammered, "-Well we're going to end up in the same place anyway. Might as well have a network of some kind."

"By the way, what exactly did you sign us up for?" he asked inquisitively.

"I'm going to be the librarian, and you're going to do herbology. Adam is surely going to be in all of the same classes as his friends, regardless of his house, and nobody will ever happen to notice."

The demon groaned, "Ugh, I'm REALLY gonna have to deal with all the little shits at once?"

"Crowley! How dare you?!"

"I'm not good with kids. Remember how Warlock turned out? Angel, I like them, well- usually. But an average house class is, what- 50? No thanks. You get a nice quiet job where you get to meet the nerds."

"You agreed dear, no turning back now. I'm not getting noticed by heaven for this."

"Fine, I'll do it for you. But I swear that if those plants aren't well-behaved they won't live long enough to be picked."

"Good. Now, about those drinks…"

"I know I, I got two more bottles, lemme just summon 'em."

Two wine bottles popped into existence.

"I was thinking maybe a couple Bordeaux. Couldn't find anything older than 20 years though. I may have artificially aged them to your preferred time," he smiled maniacally, if that was like Crowley at all.

They sat down on the sofa together. It was comfortable, now that Aziraphale had carefully miracled away all the books previously cluttered on it. Crowley poured the wine and after Aziraphale took his, they sat in silence for a bit, relaxing, slowly getting closer to each other. It's almost as if Crowley intended it.

Aziraphale interrupted the silence, his quiet voice barely breaking it.

"Are you sure we'll be alright, Crowley? I don't want you getting hurt."

"I don't want you hurt either, angel. We'll be together.."

They almost hugged, but it looked more like a haphazard friendly lean with Crowley looking like he was going to collapse and fall off the sofa. For Crowley it still felt nice. It was reassuring when they were close together, because he wasn't losing Aziraphale again under his watch.

Aziraphale had put down his wine and picked up a book, smiling calmly at Crowley.

Tonight was perfect... until Crowley fell asleep.


	7. Well, it IS in the Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlock finds out he has magic from a letter, and on his way for supplies in Diagon Alley with his mother, meets a certain pair of lost teachers within a larger group. Plot actually fully starts.

~~~~~~~~Warlock had accidentally blown up a toy robot, his favorite birthday present. He was incredibly upset, but more confused as to how it happened. It had been less than a day since he got it, and his father thought it was defective, but it wasn’t. He just… knew it was him, but he hadn’t the faintest clue as to why.

Other than that and a couple other strange instances it had been a wonderful week.

This emotion was only furthered when a week later, a piece of mail appeared through the letterbox addressed to him. It was inviting him to some sort of special school. He was scheduled to be in quite a nice private school that his father had already paid for, but this letter seemed much more insistent (and interested in Warlock.) He read it over and over again, but still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

So he brought it to his father, and Thaddeus Dowling decided to put some effort in for a change. He looked at it thoroughly and, since it was a prestigious boarding school in another country but wasn’t asking him to pay for much, he agreed to help Warlock get in. [1]*

[1]* He didn't actually want to be useful, he just didn't care for his family that much, and with Warlock not around he wouldn't be as busy. While his wife didn't like the idea much at first, she actually paid attention to her son and decided if he thought it best they might as well at least look into it.

* * *

Today he and his mother had come to where the letter said for school supplies. It was a pub. The man behind the bar pointed out to a back entrance and gestured for them to follow. Outside it was simply a wall. Harriet thought this was a very concerning situation, until he tapped out a pattern on the bricks. A rumbling sound passed and the path to a bright, bustling street was revealed.

“Diagon Alley. Funny name. They said you’d be a wizard on the mail- hang on.” Harriet shuffled through her purse, “Here’s the school supply list. Well I was saying about you becoming a wizard. I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, at least dad wouldn’t want you to know, but the reason I named you Warlock was because he missed your birth and I’m still very angry with him about it. Can’t believe I listened to those nuns...” she laughed.

“Mom, over there. That’s the wand shop.”

They stepped in to find four other kids and three adults, overhearing a conversation between them and the owner.

“Err... Anathema's wand broke and we need a replacement. She bought from an American shop, you can see the problem. Got anything?” a red haired man asked. A **very** familiar red haired man.

“Yes, those American wand shops are nothing compared to Olivander’s, the first and best! Try some out while the new children are getting theirs, dear,” the owner replied to the young woman.

“Oh thank you, Adam really is a curious one and- oh.” A very light blond man- an also very familiar light blond man, looked and saw Warlock before gasping and nudging the red haired man with his shoulder.

Then it clicked with Warlock. They were his tutors. [2]*

“Warlock!” 

“Mr. Crowley! Mr. Fell!”

There was a heartfelt reunion and they hugged, but it was cut short when they went further back in the shop for a private conversation. Warlock didn’t hear the rest, but was distracted and began testing wands, but Harriet Dowling giving an offhand remark that she was right in thinking something was a bit odd about them.

[2]* Not only that, but well- the secret identity thing was a bit creepy if you think about it, and if he knew he'd probably be a bit freaked out.

* * *

Aziraphale whispered, “We used too many miracles around him, now he’ll become a **real** warlock. We were careless and now he might end up in the middle of something again." [3]*

“I’m not too keen about him showing up in the place either, but we can’t exactly stop that now, he’s already been accepted. As long as he’s not in my class I won’t complain,” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Well that’s a change of pace,” Aziraphale said sarcastically, “Let’s just watch the kids while she’s finding a wand.”

They watched from the sidelines as chaos ensued when things sparked and exploded. Finally they started to find nice, stable wands and the owner was able to actually start cleaning things up. Aziraphale thanked the owner and paid for them all with quite a lot of galleons and left, happily offering to pay for Warlock’s wand too, though Ms. Dowling declined.

[3]* They didn't even know magic rubbing off of celestial beings not being entirely on purpose could happen until they found out Adam had given all his friends magic powers, so it was even more of a shock to see Warlock there than meeting the kids.

* * *

Since they knew each other it was agreed that what the other kids still needed they could group up for. After a happy afternoon after trampling up and down the street, Warlock split off from the group when they finished, and got the rest done on their own. 

Once they had done all the shopping, his mother took him to the cinema after dropping things in the back of the car.

"Thanks mom, today was great!"


	8. Deal with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's boss comes home to meet the pair and offer a proposition.

They had gotten back to the bookshop again after a long day out with the children in Diagon Alley. They expected a calm, cool evening at a new restaurant after a rest, but someone was in the shop already. When the angel unlocked the door and entered the shop, he realized something was wrong. Something was going on the record player.

‘Either I’m dead and I haven’t done anything that I want, or I’m still alive, and there’s nothing I want to do-’ it played shortly before skipping and falling off track. [1]*

Then he noticed it, a dark silhouette stood in the corner of the room. It looked like it was wearing a cloak. 

_‘Calm down, it could be any wizard with a grudge. A lot of them want books I own back. But- which use record players?’_ Aziraphale thought to himself.

But Crowley was behind the angel, and he was in the shop by the time he saw it, so when he noticed he shouted, “OH SHIT-” and attempted to book outside it very, very fast, but a shadowy force tied him in place. 

Aziraphale didn’t really have a plan, but first he wanted to know who it was, so he snapped his fingers and created a ball of heavenly light. 

Lo and behold, it was the lord of hell himself, clad in black, with his horns in this form a crown-like silver headdress, ornate with a purple set gem and two dark feathers hanging from the sides. The gem matched a brooch holding on the cloak, from which the crawling shadows emanated.

After this confirmation, the first thought that came across Aziraphale’s mind was to shout, “Crowley, are you alright?!”

The reply was sardonic, “Well yes, but actually no. See, I’m being bound by the big boss, never a good sign. But he’s not actually hurting me, so I s’ppose it’s better than being caged by Hastur.”

Aziraphale had called upon his wings, but Lucifer wasn’t actually attacking, so he had no real reason to fight, and while he thought it best to prepare for that, he’d allow a conversation first, not a very advanced one of course, since his first exclamation was, “Unhand my friend bringer of evil!”

He chuckled a bit, “Are you kidding? If I was the root of evil I’d be the number 25.807. Anyway, sorry about binding you darling, I’m not here to drag you back. I’d love to have a civil conversation there, but I’m giving a job that no one else is to know about,” the shadows retracted back underneath him, “I’ve released you. And no, the idea to kill you came from bloody Gabriel… and then Hastur wanted to- putting it briefly they didn’t ask me and I only found out once Michael was in Hell with a pitcher.”

“How can I trust you?” Aziraphale began to interrogate.

“Relax. Relax. I care. And I want you to help protect my son. One of your angels tipped me off that Heaven would be watching him. It was a bad move to try and destroy the universe, I admit.” [2]

 _‘It was a bad move to create the universe but here we are.’_ Satan thought.

Crowley answered strenuously, “We’re already on that, and err- anything else?”

“That will be all. Just sign this. Both of you. True names.” there was a short burst of hellfire and from within it appeared a scroll. It was a short, concise contract. [3]*

 _‘I promise to protect_ _The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast That is Called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness in exchange for protection from the demons of hell, domain of the light-bringer._

_Signature 1______________

_Signature 2_____________’_

After seeing that the contract was entirely what they were already doing, and that they’d get protection from demons for signing, they finally agreed. After writing their sigils on the paper, it engulfed in flames and disappeared.

“Thank you for caring Crowley. I’ll be checking in. But I swear, if Michael is Heaven’s agent then I’m going to that castle myself to… never you mind.”

 _‘Kiss that angel fucking stupid,’_ he thought, before making his exit, his cloak collapsing into itself, spinning into a dark spot, and then fading into nothing.

“Well, that was an eventful day. Angel, could you maybe turn off the heavenly light? I think I need to have a nap. A very long nap. I feel like I’m in limbo.”

The light was starting to give Crowley a headache. As soon as Aziraphale heard the problem he turned it off and switched to a dim lamp. After making a fresh cup of cocoa, Aziraphale began reading while Crowley fell asleep in his lap, swaddled by feathered wings.

* * *

[1]* Here’s a link to the song. It’s called ‘Dead.' Satan is just a sympathetic edgelord, really. [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPgXYPJC2uA ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPgXYPJC2uA)

[2]* Even though Lucifer and Michael couldn’t technically be together, they helped each other and looked the other way, much like the pair on earth did for those same 6000 years. Michael may have not wanted to fight for Lucifer, but they were still sympathetic, and there's yearning on both sides.

[3]* Demonic contracts are always truthful. Whether it’s the whole truth doesn’t matter much, because there was the invention of fine print. And this contract had no fine print because it had all been written on the one page, in careful calligraphy.


	9. Now Entering Terminal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time, yay!  
> After telling Newton he'll have to pay the rent if he wants to stay in Jasmine Cottage, Anathema and the Them pop into the magically expanded Bentley to drive to King's Cross, before entering 9 3/4 and boarding the train. Aziraphale however, sees something unknown out of the corner of his eye.

She had been packing up her suitcase, slowly collecting everything she had brought to Jasmine cottage, along with a few supplies she had bought from Diagon Alley. This whole thing would have been more of a surprise to her if she didn’t come here with the literal purpose of saving the world. Newt was collapsed in the bed. She nudged him awake.

He tried to hide his head in the sheets, “Ngh, ugh nuh- five… more… minutes.”

Anathema stopped him, “Newton, we have to talk. Get up.”

He sighed and his eyes fluttered open, “Fine…”

She dragged him into the kitchen and sat him down with a steaming mug of coffee.

“Once you’ve drank that, we need to talk.”

He sipped it slowly, almost burning his tongue. It was nearly fifteen minutes by the time he was coherent, and Anathema had meanwhile finished with packing before coming back into the kitchen.

“Okay. Sorry to say this, but where I’m going I won’t need the cottage. And I can’t afford to keep renting a place I’m not going to be staying at. Since you aren’t coming with us, if you want to keep living here Newt, you’re going to have to pay the rent. It’s not that I don’t like you- I just never actually lived here. I’d be leaving anyway. I’ve told you this before, but I need you to take it seriously this time!”

Newt was staring down at his second cup. He realized he would need to get a proper job. He hadn’t thought about that for about three weeks now.

“I’m going to be leaving today. You’re going to have to figure something out.”

Since it was a long way to get to King’s Cross station, she’d be riding with Crowley and Aziraphale. It wouldn’t be a long wait for them to collect her, the train was leaving in only a few hours. She made herself a snack and collected up the kids. How they were all to be riding in the same car, she wasn’t sure, but with how things were going, they’d find a way.

She played with them in the garden until she saw the Bentley pull up. The inhuman duo stepped out. Aziraphale had a massive smile on his face. It was his idea to bring them all together. Crowley had the exact facial expression of ‘I’ll do it if you stop bugging me.’

* * *

They piled in. Inside it were eight seats, extending the inner dimensions to roughly that of a small private bus. The boot was so massive it was able to hold 5 large suitcases (presumably the angel and demon didn’t need them.)

The parents had already seen their children off, so when everything was in and present, they set off.

In order from front to back, Crowley was in front with Aziraphale like always, Brian was with Anathema, Adam was with Dog (who had his own seat,) and Pepper and Wensleydale sat in the very back.

Since children were in tow, and he didn't want a visit from his boss about injuring his son, Crowley obeyed traffic laws just this once. It was a long drive to London, at least it felt like one. While it wasn’t actually very far away, the Them were chatting excitedly and there was the not unusual traffic jam on the M25. After they finally reached the station and filed out of the car, the adults emitted a shared sigh of relief that once on the train they’d be in a different car and have some time to themselves.

They pulled everything from the boot of the car.

“Remember. I’m only doing this to blend in. If I had the choice I’d be bringing my car with us. Once you have everything it’ll be driving itself into a self storage garage. So make sure you bring everything!” Crowley ordered.

They obeyed and removed their suitcases and smaller bags, making sure every school supply was present too. Aziraphale joyfully volunteered to carry the train tickets. As Crowley said, the Bentley sped off once they had checked everything and locked the doors.

As they reached the midway between platforms 3 and 4, the angel said, “That support over there, walk into it. If you’re scared, just go slowly. Yes, it may be a bit strange, but it’s so they keep the Hogwarts Express line and its platform hidden. Follow me, darlings.”

* * *

The angel stepped through and disappeared, leaving a sort of ripple effect behind. They walked single file so as not to get their suitcases stuck on anything, and emerged on the bustling 9 ¾.

“Whoa!” Pepper exclaimed.

Brian pointed at someone, “Hey, isn’t that the kid who we went shopping with? Let’s go meet him!”

Anathema piped up, “No Brian, you’ll get separated from the group. Aziraphale has your ticket and I don’t want you getting lost. So, no. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Anathema was tired of acting like a mum, but she’d get a more professional setting because her class was for third years. ‘ _Hopefully._ ’ she thought.

As the time approached, Aziraphale began distributing tickets. “Adam? Pepper? Brian? Wensleydale? And Crowley and Anathema, I’ll give you yours once we’re on the train, then us three will go into the car with other teachers.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aziraphale thought he saw something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was gone the moment he blinked. All he could tell was that it was probably a person, and from what he could gather it looked a little familiar. Maybe the colors? If he was willing to admit it, the angel would say he was a master of sloth, and because of this and not thinking he had time for it, he pushed whatever he saw to the back of his mind.

Everybody finally boarded. They were already marveling at the wondrous train, but the inside was even better once they found a room to sit in. Adam guided Dog into their booth and the four children placed suitcases at their feet. This time there wasn’t any spare room so Dog was on his master’s lap this time.

* * *

The adults found their reserved booth on the other end of the train where most of the teachers that came this way were seated. Some time to relax. Aziraphale immediately pulled out an Oscar Wilde book, while Anathema did the same, though hers was a textbook on basic spells that she nicked from Pepper under the promise that Aziraphale would help her to return it.

Since Crowley generally found it relaxing in confined spaces more comfortable this way, without warning, the demon shape-shifted into a snake and coiled up on the angel’s lap for warmth so he could have a nap. This startled the woman in front of them quite a bit, but she pulled herself back together pretty quickly.

“Oh, yes, he can do that. Sorry, I really should have told you.”

She pushed her glasses up her face and composed a response, “I’d sort of gathered he could do something like that. His aura is strange. He’s really heavily connected to you isn’t he? Your auras feel so close together even if you aren’t literally in a pile.”

The angel wanted to respond, but he eventually decided to refuse commenting, so it was left at that. He had started thinking about the figure he saw again. As his mind drifted away from reality, the Hogwarts Express slowly left the station, chugging away into the unknown.


	10. Snakes and Bastards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (If you haven't guessed, all my chapter names have been puns or references. Just wanted to point that out :D Short chapter today, but I'm posting again at least once this week)
> 
> Aziraphale sees the mystery figure again as they prepare to leave the train, but Crowley is the first to exchange words with him. Let's just say those words aren't polite.
> 
> Afterwards, Aziraphale brings up an awkward topic.

It was a few hours since they left the station. The train was just about to make its stop. Aziraphale saw someone walk past the door to their booth. It was who he saw on the platform. He only got a brief glimpse, but he got a good idea of who it was. He nudged Crowley awake, stroking his scales.

Crowley made a sound akin to purring, before moaning softly as he stirred.

“Crowley… Wake up…” the angel cooed.

“Whaaatt….” he hissed.

“Er- I think I saw an angel. I need your help.”

“I’m lookin at an angeellll righ’ nooww....” he murmured sleepily.

Anathema stared at them. “You want me to leave you two alone?”

Crowley saw her and immediately hid his head beneath his body in embarrassment. [1]*

“But really Crowley, I think I caught our spy and I’m fairly sure they saw us too. Get up. We need to find them.”

They felt a jolt as the brakes engaged. Anathema composed herself and spoke dryly. “It looks like we’ll all be moving anyway. The train just stopped.”

“Fine..sss..” Crowley slithered off of Aziraphale and reformed into a humanoid. He adjusted his glasses, dusted himself off, and got up. He slid open the booth door and stepped out.

“Come on you two, If we’re out early we might find our prowler while they’re getting on the carriages,” his walk as he approached the nearest exit to the train car was absolutely hilarious. 

He clearly forgot how to again after leaving the form of a snake, and it looked exactly as it was, as if a snake had suddenly grown legs.

Anathema picked up her suitcase. It was surprisingly small, but she’d not brought much to the UK to begin with, though Pepper’s textbook was a little harder to carry since it barely fit, and it made her luggage significantly heavier.

[1]* As Crowley was resting on Aziraphale's lap, this reaction was a terrible idea and could've ended poorly and even more embarrassing.

* * *

Aziraphale stepped out, gently placing his book in an inner coat pocket, following Crowley. Anathema, once she wrestled with the zipper on her suitcase, followed them as other passengers departed the train. It was getting pretty dark, lanterns and the stars being main methods of illumination, giving a warm light. It was also pretty hot and humid, leaving most of the people, adults and students alike, uncomfortably sweaty.

The teacher’s area was crowded, but Crowley picked up a familiar face. And he didn’t like it one bit.

_Gabriel...You._

Evidently, he eyed Crowley as well, as his purple retinas were faced directly towards him. The demon stomped up to the white-suited archangel and pointed aggressively, underneath his sunglasses staring daggers. 

He whispered it, but that didn’t take away any of the tension, “One wrong move and I’m killing you, bastard. **Don’t. Touch. Azzzziraphale** ,” he hissed angrily.

“I was only coming for the monster child, but he’s here too? What a surprise…” his tone was so dry it would make the Sahara desert jealous. It appeared that the angels still didn’t like Aziraphale very much.

Said angel strolled past, noticing the pair as a look of terror crossed his face. He froze in place. If anything, Aziraphale was more afraid of Gabriel than Crowley was of the devil himself. 

Noticing his panic, the demon ran over to his friend and hugged him tight, snuggling Aziraphale's face against his shoulder, all while Gabriel watched. As the angel’s face rested next to his, Crowley stared directly at the archangel and smirked, flicking his tongue out mockingly.

* * *

The angel and the demon took each other's hands and strolled to an empty carriage as if nothing had ever happened. Anathema was evidently seeing the kids off as they took to the water since they didn’t see her get into one before or after the were inside.

Well, they acted as if nothing had ever happened _outside the train._ Before though, was something different.

“Crowley, while I was waking you up you said something to me… I don’t know if you meant it, but were you, erm, ahem... f-flirting? Anathema mentioned wanting to leave us alone and you immediately hid your face from me. Is there anything you want to say?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it. At least, I think I didn’t. I was waking up from a really wild dream after all,” he lied.

“Well then, what was it about?”

“Eh- um. Heh. Something rather unsavory I’m afraid. You _really_ wouldn’t want to hear it. Just- maybe remind me not to sit on your lap as a snake again.” [2]*

The angel blushed but made an effort to hide it by pulling up his book, though he would have failed if they were facing one another because his other reflex was to straighten his bow tie, and on this body there was a limited number of hands, so he dropped the book, furthering the situation’s awkwardness. “Well- just forget I mentioned it then.”

The rest of the trip they sat in silence...

* * *

[2]* While it will not be explicitly stated, this line is technically true, and as Crowley's line previous was a lie, just... feel free to exercise your imagination.


	11. De(mon)ja vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam finally sees what happened in his dream play out in real life.

They had just docked and left the boats. It was late at night and they were traveling by lamplight, following the teacher Hagrid. First the gates opened, then the massive doors. All of the first-years marveled at the wonder of this new place, walking down the halls.

Adam was there. In the place from his dream. His friends were by his side. He hadn’t seen Anathema since the boats left, but he saw his guardians Aziraphale and Crowley. He’d recently been introduced to the Headmistress McGonagall, and she, along with a few other teachers, was escorting students across the school into the great hall. The other forms were there already, chattering eagerly at the four rows of tables. Silence was ordered, but whispers still broke about the sorting. Adam wasn’t as curious anymore, but he didn’t remember the whole dream, so a few things were surprises.

McGonagall took a seat at the main table and gave the basic school rules, before directing another teacher to pick up the sorting hat.

Upon a stool the hat was placed, and it began to sing. One time for Adam was enough. He thought he’d forgotten. But twice? Twice was torture for the eardrums.

Several students had been sorted by the time he saw, as per his vision, Pepper was up. The hat barely touched her head before she was declared Gryffindor. Roars from the leftmost table drowned out any other noise.

Brian was after her. There was a short pause, but it only took about a minute before the hat belted out, “Hufflepuff!”

Wensleydale was still third. It was no surprise that he was declared Ravenclaw.

He didn’t pay attention to any students he wasn’t friends with except when he saw Warlock step up. He noticed things he hadn't seen in his dream because he knew what they were now. Warlock got announced as Slytherin, and Adam went back to staring off into space.

Adam was the last person in all of the first years to be picked. It was his chance. He walked up to the stool and sat. The raggedy hat was placed upon his head, and he felt it speak to him.

_ ‘We meet again, Adam Young,’  _ said the hat.

_ ‘Again? Why is this different from my dream when everything else was the same?’ _

_ ‘Because in your dream you called to me. You were seeing the future, but hearing the present. I sorted you before you even arrived because you called me into future probability. I saw what I did. Time can’t change, and it took me a long while to pick a place for you. Looks like we’ll be waiting for a bit.’ _

Adam rolled his eyes and waited for the timer to tick up. He didn’t understand everything the hat said, but he gathered enough to know he’d be sitting there doing nothing. It was several minutes of tension filled silence, each house waiting, waiting, waiting for the result. As the minutes passed it seemed like it wouldn’t call him at all.

But then, the hat belted at the top of its lungs [1]* “SLYTHERIN!!!!!!”

This startled pretty much everybody in the room. Crowley was the only one who didn’t flinch. Instead, he smirked as he heard the Slytherin team all clapping as loudly as possible, since they got the last first year.

Adam went to sit with the other Slytherin kids, but got confronted by Pepper, who’d gotten up and pulled him aside.

“How are we gonna be together now? I thought we came to this place to be together, but we’re still gonna be apart. I don’t like this Adam.”

“It’ll work out, now I have to sit down.”

“With your new friends?”

“I didn’t say anything about new friends-”

Crowley slithered up as a snake before turning back and surprised them, “Look, can you do this literally any other time? It’s been a long day and I’d just like to talk with Aziraphale. Will you just do this for me?”

He split them up and ushered them away. Adam sat down with Warlock, since he was the only Slytherin that Adam knew at all. He hoped his friends weren’t lonely, but quickly got distracted by the huge feast that appeared in front of him.

Everyone cheered as the year officially began. 

[1]* Well, if magic talking hats had lungs. Who knows?

* * *

Crowley reseated himself next to his angelic friend.

Aziraphale whispered, “Are you registered as an animagus? I didn’t know whether you’d be shape-shifting or not.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine angel. I did it anyway just in case something happened to my glasses. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll protect you from that bastard Gabriel.”

“About that… I’m not sure how confident I am about that contract we signed with your employer. What if it isn’t honoured? What if I fall?” Aziraphale was notably distressed.

“Nothing’s touching you ever again.” Crowley glared across the table at the purple-eyed suited man-shaped being., “Ugh, defense against the dark arts, how subtle… Anyway, just eat. Act natural.”

They finally got to eating the wonderful meal put in front of them. Aziraphale smiled.

“I really am glad those house-elves are treated well now. If they weren’t I would feel immense guilt in eating this.”

The night filled with merriment continued as everyone had found their place.


	12. Gabriel the Husbando Stealer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes call up Satan. Let's just say... he's not happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for hiatus! School has been asking me to do multiple research essays per week and it's getting difficult to do my own writing project. This took a couple weeks to finish, but I'm back to a 1,000 word per chapter average at least.

They'd just settled in. Class was out for the first lunch of the year, so as per their agreement during the previous day's feast, Crowley and Aziraphale had hiked their way up to the divination tower for a meeting with Anathema. The angel was regretting this choice of setting, despite its high level of privacy.

As they reached the top of the stairs Aziraphale was panting for unnecessary air. Had it not been for Anathema's quick thinking, he would have collapsed and fallen back down them again. They gathered around by moving some chairs and started talking.

"We should probably give my boss a call. Bet he wants to know who the heavenly mole is right away. Normally electronics don't work in areas highly concentrated with magic, but uhh- let's see."

Crowley's phone turned on instantly. It was at 0% battery. It didn't seem like any of his things ran on anything but miracles nowadays anyway. He dialed the number of the beast. All sixes and more digits than a normal phone number. The dial tone rang on the line and eventually it got picked up.

Before he got the customer service talk he did a few swift motions on the screen and got the direct dial to Lucifer. He not only hated customer service representatives, but he wasn't even sure if hell knew about this plan. He heard the receiver being picked up.

"Hello, hello? Lucifer, King of Hell speaking."

"It's Crowley-"

"Ahh, good to hear you're contacting me darling. I assume you've arrived at the destination then?"

"Yes, well... Uh-" Crowley trailed off.

"Is Aziraphale there? If he is, please put it on speaker."

He took it away from his ear and switched it to speaker with the push of a button, which let the angel get some words in.

Aziraphale still wasn't confident,"Well, you see- I think we found our mole. It's- uhh… Gabriel."

Crowley could feel the phone heating up rapidly as if it was projecting sudden anger. [1]*

Lucifer growled until the phone could almost not handle his current octave, "THAT MOTHERFUCKING ASSHAT IS NEAR MY KID?!"

Anathema cut in, "Sorry, their- umm… assistant- Anathema Device here. I met him briefly while the world was about to end. I agree, he's an asshat. But could you explain why this is so terrible? You didn't seem like you'd react this way when they mentioned you."

The phone cooled down and the king of hell spoke more calmly, "It's a long story. I don't like talking about it. But I don't trust him around anyone I love. Ever. Keep him away from my child, you two. He's the only being I can trust less than Hastur. If he's not an adequate distance away- expect me to come up there personally."

"Is there anything else we can do?" Anathema asked.

"Aziraphale dear, does Gabriel have a telephone number?"

"Uh- yes. It's 424-242-4242," he answered.

There was a surprising chuckle coming from the other end, "Fantastic… ah, the meaning of life- oh that's ironic. He'd crack if he knew that came from an atheist! Oh, I love Douglas, he's so much fun at parties. Thank you dears!"

The receiver clicked and their call ended. Crowley set the phone down on a table and they all stared at each other for a good ten seconds.

"That went well…" Anathema remarked.

Aziraphale questioned, "What was that all about? I didn't think I could like Gabriel less, but what's this got to do with anything?"

Since they were out of the loop, Crowley decided to tell them a story.

"He wouldn't want you knowing this. Good ol' Lucifer was in love with Michael. It was clear to everybody except Michael himself, who honestly didn't have a clue, but eventually Michael liked him back, but neither was sure. And as my boss was starting up the rebellion thing because of working conditions regarding humans, well…"

"What happened?" the angel's tone was quite noisy, almost mischievous.

"Michael was an early supporter of it. Then, Gabriel swooped in as a messenger. Most of us were three things. We were brave, stupid, or just didn't care. For me it was the last two... Err- Anyway, when Michael heard what came from Gabe's mouth, he defected right there. I don't think he'll ever live it down. Just a few words made them have to fight on opposite sides."

"Madness- and Satan is still in love with Michael?"

"Well… Even if he isn't, he still hates Gabe. I think he's afraid that the bastard will mess up his kid. I agree with that sentiment."

"I suppose I should try to find him when the library is closed. We have off hours so I can look while classes are still in session," Azirapahle offered.

Anathema responded, "I've been practicing my divination and I'm getting better at it. Maybe I can scry on him and give you his location. Oh- hey. While you're still here could you do that with my phone? I just found out that technology doesn't work and I'd still like to contact my relatives."

Crowley hesitated before answering, "...Fine."

The demon snapped his fingers and her phone glowed to life once again, before putting his phone in his pocket. He took ahold of the angel's hand before the two strolled back down the stairway, going out to lunch.

* * *

[1]* It was projecting sudden anger. He was so mad that along with his voice, a little bit of hellfire went all the way up through the phone lines, satellites and cell towers just to make Crowley worry his phone had a defective battery and could explode.

* * *

Meanwhile, the angel Gabriel was going to get a very disturbing call.

He was in the middle of class, starting off the year with the horrendous nature of demons. The classmates didn't seem particularly impressed at his power-point style presentation. He even got some uncomfortable remarks.

"He's a nutter," one student said.

"Damn right he is," replied another.

It rang plainly, echoing through the classroom. Everyone heard it. Not a lot was said by the wizards raised by magical families, but some muggleborns gave him the side eye.

"How come your phone works? Does magic frying our stuff not apply to you?"

Gabriel almost choked, "Don't talk to me like that, you twerp. The magic displacement is still in testing. I'm getting a call. Excuse me. While I'm gone turn to page 86 in your textbooks!"

There was a collective groan as he disappeared up into his private office. Textbooks rustled but there was still a lot of talking.

"Defence against the Dark Arts really IS cursed, isn't it?"

"Yup."

* * *

Gabriel unlocked his phone. It was still ringing, but the caller ID was blocked.

_Probably just someone in another department. Might as well not risk getting a complaint._

He answered the call to hear distant music. It was growing louder. The lyrics were getting more discernible and there was definitely some guitar.

'...Ain't no loathing, like self loathing. The prison guards ain't free… The fellowship of Hell… can't help you now, the fellowship of HELL…' [2]*

He was already uncomfortable, but as he tried to speak the music ended abruptly, only to be replaced by a deep, disturbing voice.

"HELLooo Gabriel… Who's the real devil now? Consider this a warning..."

The line went dead. A contorted frown was on the archangel's face. It didn't usually do anything other than smile, so this was about the closest look to abject terror as it could manage. He dropped the phone and his head dropped to the table.

* * *

[2]* This is the song. watch?v=jIFyjVmNugU


	13. Oh, it's Teatime!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell has a mysterious visitor- and for Lucifer, it's time for tea.

He’d been waiting in the throne room slumped over and his head in his hands. Bored out of his mind and still ruminating over Gabriel’s presence in Hogwarts, he was about to switch the TV on. Then he felt a- presence. He knew that feeling. But he hadn’t truly felt it for over 2,000 years.

God was coming for a visit.

Reality bent, swirling around a spot at the other end of the dank basement room. Then all of a sudden it stopped, and out a little girl of maybe four or five popped out of the void. She was holding a crudely made doll in the shape of an angel. Of all the forms she could have taken...

“Lucifer, we need to talk,” despite the apparent age of the girl, her voice was of a full grown woman, calm and quiet, yet echoing and booming.

“Mom…” Satan groaned. He snapped his fingers and the door to the throne room snapped shut and locked itself.

“I think it’s best that we do it over tea, don’t you?”

Before he had time to answer that question, she clapped her hands together and a small table with a pink tablecloth and teacups appeared much the same way she had. Aside from two spots, each of the six seats contained another angel doll. They seemed to move on their own, staring, gazing deep into his soul. Lucifer shuddered.

He sat down awkwardly at the empty flowery stool. It was clearly too small for him, and he almost fell off a few times before gaining some sense of balance. His six wings shuffled awkwardly until he found a position that had some semblance of comfort.

“Adam Young. Quite an interesting boy, isn’t he? Destiny has its way of bending. Hmm. Tea?”

She offered a teapot that appeared to be full of water. He didn’t accept it on basic principle.

“Sorry, no holy water for me. And- uhh, yes. I… didn’t want Armageddon,” he sighed “Not really. I wanted a son.”

Her answer was cryptic. “Doesn’t look much like you, does he? Not like you at all. Then who _does_ he look like?”

“You know who he looks like.” he sneered.

“You hate what I gave you. I created you. I gave you everything you could have wanted. And yet you still rebelled. And yet you still hate me.”

His expression turned sour. “I was arrogant, yes. But humanity- do you really think that your first creation was inferior? We are more like you than they are, yet you claim that man is made in your image. Before Crowley offered Eve the fruit, they were apes that knew only lies. It wasn’t just the angels, it was the humans that suffered your unfairness as well. I didn’t rebel because I hated you, I didn’t rebel because I wanted to usurp you, I rebelled because I wanted to right your injustice.”

“Ignorance is bliss. If it wasn’t for demons showing humanity the harsh truths, the horsemen couldn’t exist. This world would be perfect. And yet you complain when even after the war I gave you and your ‘people’ what you said you wanted. Even being the pathetic creature you are now, this is a mercy. You wanted this, to be a king. So as you wished, you are king of the damned. If you continued to submit to me, you’d be my right hand, dear,” the angel dolls stared him down, their faces contorting into frowns.

“I know what I said. You know what I meant. You supposedly know everything, but you twist our words for your own benefit. For example, Death is both demon and angel, and a creation of humanity. If anyone knew the harsh truths, it would be the creature that has seen everything in this world. Death may not seem fair or just but death is still the truth, death is finality, yet it is judgement and eternity. Death is our creation. Accept him even when it doesn't suit you.” He ran his fingers through fluffy raven hair, his silver crown clinking against his horns as it shifted on his head.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. He pretended to take a sip from the empty teacup. She made strange movements with her hands and the dolls made toothy smiles. They were her puppets. Then he realized. He couldn’t recognize them all, but they were all archangels. Gabriel, Raphael- Michael. Michael’s current form, but it was undeniable. The golden feathery pattern was the same as it had used to be. His eyes opened wide and his pupils dilated. His face turned from terror to fury.

“NO! I should've known. It was you all along who tried to execute them. You were behind all of it. You did this to Michael, you did this to me! All of this depression, torment, darkness- it was YOU!” he screamed. 

He stood up and the room darkened. His eyes glowed and around his hand, out of the shadows, a silver trident manifested. He pointed it directly at the little girl. He glared daggers and the blade-like points glimmered. For a second, it seemed like the shine flickered with golden bloodstains. His wings were outstretched and a ghostly wind blew at his robes, making them shift and billow.

“Before I hated myself for what happened. I blamed myself for everything. I didn’t truly hate you. But if you make one more move, I will try to destroy you,” his voice turned deep and distorted like his other form and his body glowed where there had once been angelic markings.

The girl calmly replied, pouring herself more ‘tea’, “I wished to resolve things between us, but it seems you never change. You’re still my child, Lucifer. But you need to find the right path before I forgive you,” she sighed.

The demon king answered, but refused to let his guard down, “I would have said much the same thing. You’re still a manipulative puppeteer, a chess-master playing an ineffable game. And I’m still the rebellious child. I suppose we’ll never agree. But one of us has to grow up someday.”

The trident dissolved back into shadows and he turned around. The room gained color again as light danced from the stained glass windows once again. His face covered by one hand, he pointed back at her with the other, “Go! Stop your torment and never come back. This is my domain, I shouldn’t have to remind you. And keep away from Adam. If Gabriel gets close to my son I won’t grant him the same mercy as I did you.”

The girl looked down, “As you wish,” she said.

Hell bent around her and the air distorted. Light emerged from the gap in reality and he covered his eyes. Then, just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone, as if they had never been there.

He was alone. It was almost worse than before. He wanted to pretend that never happened, but if he did then he knew that he would have given up. Adam wouldn’t be safe. Michael would have no chance of freedom from the marionette strings. His life would get worse than it had been for the last 6,000 years.

So instead, he pulled his phone from across the room into his hand. It started to ring on the other end. The contact he’d turned to read ‘Azrael.’


	14. A Fiery Discord is How Plants Change their Tune

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Pepper's first junior herbology lesson, and while she has fun, her schoolmates don't seem to like their new teacher...

It was Pepper’s first herbology class. This was one of the few classes she was taking that the other members were not, since it was her extracurricular for the semester. Taking it early meant she would be able to skip it or take a higher level next year, and she liked plants and dirt. After the events leading up to this lesson however, she had trouble thinking of Crowley as ‘professor’ rather than a weird uncle.

The greenhouse was bright and warm. Ivy climbed its walls, scattering the yellow light into small separate beams. The smell of fresh earth drifted over Pepper like a blanket. There were whispers amoung her schoolmates.

 _“I heard he’s an animagus,”_ one said.

 _“I saw him staring down the defence teacher yesterday,”_ another replied.

 _“He’s been running off with the librarian. Do you think they might be fucking? They both seem pretty gay...”_ an older student asked.

Either way, they’d come to the consensus that he was weird and they were already skeptical of him. Crowley himself, however, seemed to really enjoy the warmth of this place, to an odd degree. The burbles of light conversation faded as into the room staggered the demon, hissing for everyone to be quiet.

“Alright ya brats, I’m Professor Crowley. I know an awful lot more ‘bout plants than I need to. I’m not dealing with that ‘getting to know each other’ business. I’m jumping right into the first lesson. Before we deal with the dangerous shtuff, I’ve been told we have to work with _normal_ flora. Pick something that ya think’ll be tough so that you can prove to yaself and to me that you’re competent...” he slurred.

He was rambling on a bit. His sunglasses shifted down his face a little. He tried to straighten them but only made them more crooked. It seemed like he was… drunk? Even though he was definitely liking the warmth and sun, he seemed jittery and a little stressed out.

A child closer to the front of the room raised their hand. Crowley pointed over at them and asked, “What’s ya name?”

The girl replied, “Eleanor, sir. I’d like to ask exactly what sorts of normal flora we’ll be working with. I’ve always loved lilies but I’m awful with bulbs. Are you alright sir?”

Crowley smirked a bit at that [1]*, “We should have some o’ those. Just a minute.”

The demon went out back and there was a groaning sound, followed by him sauntering back into the classroom in a most peculiar (but at least not drunken) way. There were a few lily bulbs in his hand. 

As he walked past he handed her the lily bulbs. He circled the room a couple of times before asking, “Now, exactly what makes plants grow the best and most reliably? Any guesses?” A few hands popped up and he pointed at one of them. It was Pepper. 

“Well, they need the right amount of water, sunlight- soil…” Crowley cut her off. 

“I mean, yeah they need those things to survive. _BUT…_ that won’t make them grow perfectly, beautifully, immaculately,” he was waving his hands around agressively before narrowing his fingers in a gesture sometimes seen in perfectionists, “You need to prove to them that if they won’t reach the highest standards, you’re perfectly happy to take those things away, and only the plants that meet them can survive. Shout at them, threaten them. _Show_ them you mean it. I’ve named my plants. Think of one to ‘root’ for more than the others, or one you want to be made the example to the group. For this I’ve picked the name _Gabriel,_ ” he laughed a bit as he produced a small pot with a plant that seemed to be doing well at first glance, but Crowley’s fanged smile proved otherwise.

Crowley picked his wand out of a breast pocket, “Gabriel here is a pathetic spineless bastard who has _leaf spots!_ DIE!” Crowley tapped the pot with his wand and a fire erupted, reducing the sprout to ashes.

Pepper grimaced. She’d seen him have some issues before, but this was the first time he showed so much public aggression. Or was it? There were things she thought she remembered. But she didn’t. And yet she did. Either way, he was dealing with something, and definitely not in a healthy way. 

The other class seemed to already have negative opinions of him. Despite his hint of kindness and vulnerability, he started the class drunk, he never sat still, he was rude, and now _this._ He was clearly unhinged, and not helping was the rumors already floating around.

He directed the class to pick out different seeds, cuttings, and bulbs from the storage shed. Curiously, there weren’t lilies anywhere, meaning Crowley must have had something to do with it. Pepper wanted something big and impressive, so she picked out sunflowers.

Unlike in previous years, rather than each classmate having one or two pots, Crowley had decided that they needed to add some ‘natural selection’ into the mix, so each child would start with six pots. While it did come with the advantages of better accounting for issues that the plant had over the student, it did mean a lot of extra work would have to be done. A few third years that had to repeat the class groaned at this.

Each plant had a matching brochure or seed packet with care instructions. Of the soils available, sunflowers were best if their normal soil was mixed with compost. Because of the size of the school, that was easy to find. Taking a pair of the gardening gloves and a trowel, Pepper started to shovel dirt into each pot about two thirds of the way, before hauling each pot over to the compost pile. Pepper loved dirt and when she found a worm she smiled a little. 

Shoveling it into her pots, she planted several sunflower seeds. As she added a little water to the soil so it could get some moistness, she glared at the spots where the seeds were. “Grow _or else,_ ” she whispered. This wasn’t a serious situation where she needed to be brave, so she was far from intimidating. 

It was a long while before everyone was finished with that, and by the time all the pots had been placed by their appropriate locations, class was over and a bell chime rang from the main school building. The flock of children flooded out of the greenhouse and back inside to the cool stony halls of the castle.

* * *

[1]* Crowley was amused as while Lilies were an important flower around here, he was thinking of the Archdemon Lilith, who was one of the only specifically female demons and also a rare case of having been previously human. He'd pissed off Lilith a while ago and she'd tried to get him killed or at least demoted multiple times.


	15. Power Over Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers meet as Lucifer's plan comes into motion...
> 
> I get another chance to add my interpretation of a character. :D

He stared down at the floor from up on his throne. He was waiting patiently, but it had been hours. It seemed like his contact was busy, which in this case made sense. The stony floors echoed the sounds of him shuffling himself around. A song was playing quietly on the radio. 

[1]* _“_ _They built this whole neighborhood out of wood, out of wood. I guess I'll still be around when they burn, burn it down. I will be standing around when they burn it down. Here in the Museum of Idiots..._ _”_ it sang before quieting down as an aura of silence muffled everything.

Darkness swirled around much the same place God had appeared. It formed itself bottom up, seeming to morph out of the floor, the shadows pulling themselves out from the world in which they belonged into the third dimension.

The man that appeared was grey and dead. His face was sunken and his eyes were red. He also had black wings, enrapturing the room, stars twinkled in their murky depths. Straight black hair was combed neatly to either side. A black tailcoat with a grey shirt and red necktie was the base of the look, with a golden pocket watch and pair of half-moon glasses to complete it. The mysterious being was wearing an outfit more befitting the bureaucracy of heaven, only darker and more stern looking. Black was accented by gold, the emptiness of hell with a faint light of heaven. 

Outside of the form he would take on his final ride, Azrael was dressed more like an impatient lawyer than a reaper of souls. His face however, was cold, calculated. He had a stare that bore into your mind to find your deepest secrets.

“Finally…” Lucifer responded and rolled his eyes, “A guest I actually invited. Dear, do sit down. I do wish that we would get on good terms again.”

Another chair appeared across the room, but the other said, “I need not sit. Brother, what do you want of me? I didn’t expect us to ever speak again.”

“I said that when mom came unannounced and told me off. We had another fight…” his face was hidden by the moderately long fluffy hair, his embarrassment still clearly visible. 

Death looked unenthused, “You didn’t get smited a second time, that should be considered an improvement. But how does this involve me? If I played your games the cycle of everything would come to a halt.”

“Hell doesn’t like you. Heaven doesn’t like you. They wanted Armageddon more than anything- and your horsemen failed. Ending the cycle of everything was the entire point, wasn’t it? Maybe you shouldn’t have let Pestilence retire, she was really quite the lady. What do you have to lose at this point, dear? Either way, the demons won't let things return to normal if you aren't pardoned,” his persuasive charisma was in full swing.

“The others wanted it, but did you? I can feel it in your soul. I pass judgment. I know your strengths and your faults,” his voice was raspy and echoed like his other form.

“You knew about the children. That they were following the wrong trail. Hell normally never forgives, never forgets. But darling, I’m their king, and dare I say it, their friend. If I forgive you, judgement will resume as normal. All those lost souls- all those sinners- will get what they truly deserve.”

Lucifer couldn’t sit still on his throne, and at this point was practically looking up at Azrael from upside down. His wings were quite literally spread-eagle as they lay in a vulnerable position on the floor. He was staring at purple manicured nails, shiny enough to see his reflection. This was never something he’d let someone he didn’t trust to witness. Azrael noticed this sign of openness and sighed. His argument was convincing, like it or not.

“You might be conniving and cynical. But- you mean what you say. If Hell stops pursuing me, I’ll give in.”

It seemed that for a second the sunken face flickered out, revealing an empty skull, before appearing again. Death readjusted his spectacles. Then, against even Lucifer’s expectations, he got on one knee, and knelt.

“What must I do?” he asked, his voice continuing to deepen. “Balance must be restored to this wretched world, lest it fall into entropy without the mercy of an ending.” 

Lucifer righted himself and stood up straight.

“Adam,” he answered.

“The young antichrist?”

“Exactly. You fought him. Now you must protect him. I already enlisted Crowley and Aziraphale-”

The Reaper put his head in his hands, “Not them…” he murmured.

“I thought they would be fine on their own. But they are neither archangel nor archdemon. Only outcasts. They don’t have the power to fight Gabriel, let alone anyone he may have beneath him. I warned that archangel, but you’re the only one I know that can match him and won’t get murdered upon entrance to the living world. Heaven might not like you, but they won’t kill you first chance. You’re an important force of nature. I’m… not.”

Azrael nodded his head, “I understand that, sir. But if he steps out of line?”

The demon king snarled, “If he decides on that, he’s chosen death. There aren't many people I would kill- but Gabriel is an exception. First you discorporate him. If he comes back for another fight, destroy him, completely and utterly- or, if it isn’t an emergency, send him to me. You have portals to both Heaven and Hell from the living world. He can’t enter or leave Hell without help. He’s taken too much from me. From all of us.”

Death’s head flickered once more, revealing the void behind his eyes. He summoned his scythe, red and black energy giving it shape. There were two versions of it- one simple and rusted, the tool of a farmer. This one however, was more intricate. It had a gold handle with flame-like swirls near the blade. Rubies were set inside it, shimmering like freshly spilt blood. The blade itself was mostly silver, except for the very edge, which was pure black. This, more powerful scythe, could do so much more than reap a single man. Armies, cities, demons- _angels_.

Azrael smiled, as did Lucifer in return. Out of the nothingness flew a small black bird. It was a raven, its skull exposed. It perched on Azrael’s shoulder.

“It’s a deal then? Brother, let us do away with contracts. Shake my hand, dear brother,” his grin was large and seemingly fanged. His six wings split any light leftover inside the room. Both of their eyes glowed in their respective colors.

"I will serve you until and only until the balance is restored and I can serve the universe. If demons pursue me never will judgement be wrought. The sinners' souls will be lost in the void. "

Purple swirled into red as their hands shook. Lucifer felt Azrael’s bony fingers. It broke any illusion of life in the creature. This was entropy, this was inevitable.

And in a flash, Azrael was gone and the shadows in the room subsided. Warmth returned. The dampness came back, replacing the feel of dust and dryness. The music became audible once more- singing _'Chop me up into pieces if it pleases, if it pleases._ _And when the chopping is through, every piece will say, "I love you."_ _Every piece of me will say "I love you.""_

His eyes faded. The deal was complete. Leftover was the raven. The messenger of death. It flapped up and settled on his shoulder. They would speak to eachother through this familiar.

It was time for another set of phone calls. First number: Gabriel.

[1]* The song is 'Museum of Idiots' <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9LmHISfm-8>


	16. When Death Comes Knocking

“Hogwarts is going through a revolution. My students, you will be the first to encounter this school with electrical outfitting. Because of magic’s interaction with technology this will be limited to dormitories, certain offices, and common rooms, but inventions from the outside world will help communication, education, and recreation. I’m sure your parents will be happy to hear from you more often, and this is sure to enhance our expanded muggle learning programs. This has been a long time in the making. Professor Aziraphale helped us greatly in this endeavor,” McGonnagal said, ushering the angel up to the podium. 

He shyly placed himself there, looking down at the rest of the dining hall as everyone was having supper. Crowley was nearby, glaring over at Gabriel, making it obvious that he couldn’t do a damn thing. This was a moment that nobody was going to ruin. Just this once, grasping at hope- but Anathema ran up to him and whispered in his ear, terror in her eyes.

“Something’s coming.”

Then it started getting cold. The candles floating overhead were extinguished and the room darkened. Overhead the starry sky grew cloudy and lightning flashed. Shadows collected around the other end of the room. The castle ghosts that rarely visited here manifested themselves, all seeming drawn to a magnetic force. 

“Oh, fuck-” the angel and demon exclaimed in unison. They drew their ‘wands’ but knew there was nothing they could do now.

A figure emerged, cloak obscuring features, raising up a scythe with jewels shimmering in red. Chaos broke out. Students ran, teachers drew their wands as a shape such as this was familiar. The figure tore the cloak away, revealing the deathly pale face underneath. Eyes glowed red as the room fell deeper into darkness.

The teachers tried to fight, but nothing was working. Magical light wasn’t keeping away the shadows that grew ever nearer.

“We know this creature. Don’t fight. Teachers, Anathema, take as many kids as you can and RUN!” Aziraphale shouted.

“That scythe could reap the whole school in seconds, get them out of here!” Crowley responded.

Azrael’s wings spread and his voice echoed, “You may fight bravely, but I am inevitable. No matter how hard you try, your spirit will whittle away and succumb to me.”

Realizing Aziraphale was right, robes swished and feet shuffled, a wave of adults and older students pushing the children back.

Then a blinding light cut through it, allowing everyone to see once their eyes adjusted. Gabriel was there, lavender energy emanating from his body and it rose as three pairs of silvery wings opened up.

“Why are you here? You failed. Come to try and get them again and make things up with me? Finish the apocalypse? I have the antichrist nearby,” he asked smugly.

“No,” he simply said.

The revelation hit everyone against Gabriel like a sack of bricks.

“Oh.”

They couldn’t keep being bystanders. Wizards had magical power, but aside from Adam, none of them would even be able to come to an impasse with Death. 

“Anathema, find Adam and go!” Crowley cried.

Killing Gabriel might have been something Crowley wanted, but it sure would have repercussions. Heaven would come after them again and possibly try to raid Hell, too.

Crowley tore off his sunglasses as his eyes glowed yellow and black wings grew from within him. Aziraphale did much the same. They were losing cover already and they’d probably break their deal too, but this could go far worse if they let things continue.

They were going to have to deescalate the situation. Another potential battleground, another attempt to create peace.

“Gabriel, I am not here to kill you. But I am here to speak with you. I have a warning. Leave this place and never approach the antichrist again. If not, then I will be forced to kill you.”

The archangel looked back. “I refuse.”

It was quick, almost instant. In a blur, Death came for Gabriel with a slash. But he didn’t die, or even discorporate. Externally he was only frozen in place, but his soul was being drawn deeper towards the ground. He felt it warp around him as a dark portal opened, tendrils dragging him inside. He tried to cry out, but no words came.

From the other side of the portal something rose. Lucifer’s purple eyes gleamed as he stared into Gabriel’s own. A smile of wicked satisfaction played across his lips, but then it disappeared into a grimace.

“I’ll finish with you later.” he snarled, kicking Gabriel further downwards with his Roman Caligae sandals.

“Your duty is nearly complete, brother. Know that if any bit of the plan fails, you must return to me. And- oh. Aziraphale, Crowley darlings. You’ve been doing great at blending in. I couldn’t expect any less from a pair who've been on earth for millennia. Sorry about the panic. Brother dear does love to make an entrance. I’ll do a quick memory wipe for you and we’ll be off.”

Their forms reverted to being fully corporeal and Aziraphale asked, “What are you going to do to him?”

An orb formed in Lucifer’s pale hand and it expanded, engulfing the school in a feeling of drowsiness. They wouldn’t remember a thing.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll probably torture him. Maybe even kill him. But who knows? He’s Gabriel after all, mummy’s favorite. Isn’t that right?” For a second his grin had pointed teeth and his eyes went black.

The Archangel was slowly sinking in, his face just barely above floor level as the demon stomped on it again before letting himself fall back through as it closed. Azrael dispersed himself into the fading shadows as the lights came back on. 

Aziraphale felt it lingering long after everything was done. Death was still very close, and not knowing where was far from reassuring.

Time seemed to unwind itself as all the teachers and students walked back into the room and sat exactly where they’d been, as if the whole thing never happened.

Anathema asked, “I swear I saw something bad, but nothing happened. Wait, do you feel like you’ve forgotten something?”


	17. Angels Can't Keep Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the event that tore through during supper, Adam wants to know exactly what's up, and what his angelic teachers haven't been telling him. 
> 
> I'm posting two shorter chapters this week. Prepare for Aziraphale/Crowley fluff next time.

Even after Aziraphale had gotten back to the library he was still shaking. He really needed a hug from Crowley- or _something._ He wasn’t used to actually having a job where he needed to let children of all people borrow the books. They’d come back of course, but he was constantly worried about their condition. Life’s little anxieties at least could distract him from the overwhelming fear of being overseen by someone who he thought had tried to kill him.

And then Adam came in. He’d become fairly well-read as of late, but he always visited with his friend Wensleydale. It was strange that he was alone, but the angel could guess why. As he thought, the boy walked up to him.

“Could we talk? Please?”

At least he was being polite. Putting the remaining books on the shelf, he directed the child to a nearby table. Adam had an idea about what they’d actually been doing early on, but he’d failed to understand the scope of it. This relieved the angel, because it meant that in general there’d be less awkward explaining. [1]*

Sitting down in a chair, Adam took a deep breath. The angel picked up one more book and sat down with it so he wouldn't have to look Adam in the eye. The antichrist knew that even if the angel wasn't going to want to answer, it wouldn't be like the times he'd wanted to talk to Crowley. [2]*

“That monster came and you made me run away. Why? And nobody remembers it. Again.”

Aziraphale stuttered, “Well- erm…” he sighed, “I guess I’ll have to tell you the truth.”

The antichrist picked up on things quickly. “ _He_ was here. That’s it, right?”

“Yes. Yes, come he did. I still don’t know everything, but he sent up Death- to do something. He wanted to protect you, but you wouldn’t like it. That's something I know I'm not telling you. I'm not leaving a child traumatized. He talked to me- albeit briefly, and then made people forget.”

Adam scowled. “Why’d _he_ talk to you? I thought you came here to protect me _from him_.”

The angel was visibly sweating. “Well, you see- even though I’m supposed to always fight for heaven I’m still sympathetic. Even for your father. And we made- an agreement. We protect you from… my kin. I’m sorry, Adam. I’ve been lying to you.” his head dropped down in disappointment. 

“Is that why the teacher disappeared? He’s an angel-”

"Gabriel may have wanted to hurt you, and Satan didn't want to take that precaution. Why he didn't do it sooner is what I can't guess. I might... not like... Gabriel- but I didn't mean for it to come to that."

"So you're here. I'm not sure I like that anymore. I told you no more messing about and you did it anyway. I'm going to go meet Warlock, thanks," Adam took his own book before up and leaving.

He nodded silently as he watched Adam go. Without another word, Aziraphale got out of the chair as well and walked towards the main door to the library. After recent events he needed some comfort. He needed Crowley. He flipped a recently added sign to ‘Closed’ and left.

Adam knew where the angel would be going, but he didn't want to associate with them right now, let alone talk more.

* * *

[1]* Boy were they wrong.

[2]* Crowley's dedication to his plants- and his dedication to be left alone, often resulted in Adam being blatantly ignored beyond the occasional, "Oh good, you're alive."


End file.
